


The Secret to a Successful Marriage

by stepquietly



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stargate Atlantis, Crack, F/F, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2513510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepquietly/pseuds/stepquietly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So let me get this straight,” Captain Holt says, enunciating each word specifically in the way that Amy’s come to interpret as annoyance. “You went on a simple reconnaissance mission to M4P-069, but instead of bringing back their strange, inedible version of corn, you decided instead to partake in a local ceremony and marry each other.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret to a Successful Marriage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [novembersmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/novembersmith/gifts).



> Thanks to [](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/hazel/profile)[](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/hazel/)**hazel** for the beta!

This is the worst day ever.

“So let me get this straight,” Captain Holt says, enunciating each word specifically in the way that Amy’s come to interpret as annoyance. “You went on a simple reconnaissance mission to M4P-069, but instead of bringing back their strange, inedible version of corn, you decided instead to partake in a local ceremony and marry each other.” It’s not a question.

“Yes,” Rosa says, and then, to Amy’s consternation and total lack of surprise, doesn’t bother to elaborate at all. Instead, Rosa props a hand on her leather clad hip and slouches like this whole bureaucratic procedure is a waste of her time. And while that’s probably fine and good for Athosians and their systems of protocol, it’s going to give Amy an ulcer eventually.

“Sir!” Amy rushes to fill in. “The locals on the planet have an artefact that we believe may be ancient, but only newly married couples are allowed to view it. We – that is, Rosa and I – thought we should maybe check on it. Sir.” It’d seemed like a good idea at the time.

He hums thoughtfully and leans back in his chair. Amy notices with relief that the slight pursing of his lips has smoothed into benevolence again. “And was it?” he asks.

“Looked like a tiny ZPM,” Rosa offers. “We weren’t allowed close enough to verify if it was charged or not.”

Holt’s face almost inches into a smile. “This is wonderful news. Have you ascertained whether they would be willing to barter for it? We have several resources we might be able to offer them.”

“That’s why we came back, sir.” Amy beams across the desk at him. “We wanted to ask for permission to offer them an alternate artefact. The locals seemed amenable to the idea, so long as the artefact was Ancient in origin and similar in structure. And, visually, sort of –”

Rosa sighs and cuts in. “They want something that looks shiny and dick-like,” she says, trampling over Amy’s attempt to delicately suggest, well, basically the same thing. Except without the word ‘dick’. Oh god.

But Captain Holt just leans forward on his desk and favours them with a long pleased look. “Good,” he offers shortly.

This is the best day _ever_.

* * *

  
Peralta’s waiting for them outside of the briefing room, probably having shamelessly eavesdropped on the whole thing through one of Atlantis’ view screens. Not for the first time Amy curses how much Atlantis seems to love Peralta’s natural ATA gene over her own genetically engineered version. Atlantis would never let Amy spy on any of Captain Holt’s meetings.

“I can’t believe you’d cheat on me so easily,” Peralta says as he falls into step with them. “Did our marriage on P7X-119 mean nothing to you?”

“Oh please,” Amy fires back, “I basically saved you from that chieftain’s daughter and her wandering cup of betrothal wine!”

“That may be true,” he acknowledges, “though it’s not going to stop me from pointing out that this puts you in the lead. You’ve got 21 marriages now and I’m only on lucky 19.” He holds out a hand for a high five.

Amy ignores him and Rosa seems amused, but unwilling to actually complete the ritual.

“Come on,” he cajoles, still holding his hand up, trying to look as appealing as possible, “it’s bad luck to leave a guy hanging.” Rosa sighs and high-fives him, vaguely indulgent. “ _Yes!_ ”

Amy refuses to be even a little bothered by this. “Laugh all you want, Peralta, but at least I’m getting something out of my marriages. Check it out: M4P-069 has what might be an actual ZPM.” The thrill of that is still zipping through her veins.

“Two things,” Peralta points out, trying to keep a straight face. “First, I’m going to point out that you just got gay married on planet sixty-nine. _Yeah._ And second, the ZPM that you’re bringing back will no doubt be used to help my magical butt further unlock Atlantis’ chair of wonders.”

He points to the ass in question, and Amy just shakes her head at him. “What?” he asks, trying to walk and angle his butt in her direction at the same time. “Not ready for this Atlantean jelly?” He gives up on the attempt and just keeps pace with them. “Can I say, it’s still awesome that my butt is basically the key to a safer, brighter tomorrow.”

“Can we please stop discussing your butt?” Amy begs. “I am so done with your butt!”

“Clearly untrue, and also maybe a little weird.” Jake points out. “But okay, if only because you’re married to Rosa now and I don’t need any more reasons for her to beat me with sticks.”

Rosa smiles at him, somehow looking both pleased and predatory, and Jake puts his hands up to clearly signal surrender.

Amy ignores the warm flutter Rosa’s smiles, and her leather, and her whole general badass demeanour gives her, and shoots a mocking smile at Peralta instead.

“I married up this time,” she tells him, doing her best to seem regal and mocking at the same time, as she keys her personal code into the panel outside the requisitions room. “And this time we didn’t even need to use a goat sort of.... thing, for the ceremony.”

“Ah,” Peralta sighs with pretend nostalgia as the door slides open soundlessly, “good times. And an excellent addition to the wedding feast later.”

Inside, there’s row upon row of artefacts, and a desk where Gina’s currently sprawled, doing something probably not work related on her tablet.

Amy spends a couple of seconds standing before Gina’s desk waiting to be noticed before giving it up as a lost cause.

“Gina, we need to requisition something from the storage room,” she says, as crisp and authoritative as possible. “Anything the scientists have maybe deemed non-fatal or likely to cause explosions?”

“It also needs to look shiny and like a dick,” Rosa adds, and Amy has to work to hide her embarrassed wince. Technically it’s not a thing she needs to be embarrassed about; the whole thing is based on fertility rituals after all, but it’s still weird to have to ask Gina to give them a fake, Ancient dick thing.

“Oh wow, you guys are already at the dick level and ready to consummate?” Gina drawls. “And I only just heard that congratulations were in order.”

“What? How?” Amy can’t stop sputtering long enough to object to all the things Gina just said. “ _No!_ ” she gets out finally.

“No, what? No, you didn’t get married, or no, you aren’t asking me for a fake penis with which to make your relationship more official?” Gina smiles wide, like she knows precisely how far over a barrel she’s got Amy. “Also, planet 69? Classy.”

“Neither! Both! I mean,” Amy pauses to take a deep breath and regain her cool, “Rosa and I had to get married for our mission. And part of that mission now involves taking an artefact back to,” and here’s she has to swallow and force herself through it, “M4P-069 –”

“Hey!” Gina and Jake chorus and high-five.

“– and exchanging it for a possible ZPM.” Amy has to raise her voice to be heard over the two of them. She huffs, annoyed, because they’re totally ruining her big moment here. At least Rosa seems amused.

Gina finally stops finger gunning at Jake and puts on a serious face. “Not that I want to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m afraid we don’t have anything that fits your description that we can spare.”

Amy boggles at Gina because that’s pretty much the most blatant lie she’s ever heard. “That’s a lie!” she blurts.

Gina eyes her, unrepentant. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

Rosa raises an eyebrow at Gina from where she’s slouched against the wall. “You’ve got a whole box of them right there.” She points at the nearest shelf which has a giant open carton on it, helpfully labelled ‘shiny ancient stuff’ which, really, Amy’s baffled by the captain putting Gina in charge of anything, but putting her in charge of their database of ancient technology seems like the worst idea ever. Amy’s sure he has a reason – Captain Holt is _far_ too clever not to have a reason – but this seems sort of terrible.

“Well, I can’t give you _those_ ,” Gina insists. “What am I going to do when Stargasm needs sexy shiny background objects to wave around during our individual solos?”

“You’ve been using ZPMs as strobe sticks during your practices?” There’s more than a hint of danger edging out from under Rosa’s deadpan tones. She’s even straightened from her slouch against the wall, and Amy really hopes Gina realises just how much trouble she’s in.

“Not the practices, silly,” Gina continues blithely. “During our actual performances. We do a couple of shows down at the mainland on Sunday. You know, exchange cultural information about our civilizations, show them my moves.” She grooves a little in her chair.

Rosa takes an angry step towards her and Amy rushes forward to intercede. “Okay. That’s – Well, that’s a terrible waste of resources. But _anyway_ ,” she rushes on when Rosa looks like she’s about to lunge forward again, “it’s not our current mission. We’re just here to get a depleted ZPM and take it back to M4P-069.”

“ _Sixty nine_ ,” Jake whispers from somewhere behind her, still sounding thrilled. “This is The Best. Day. Ever.”

For a second it seems like the moment has passed, except then Gina throws down. “I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t think dance is nothing or ‘a waste of resources.’ People live their whole lives in search for beauty. At what point does your decision to live a boring life supersede my own choice to live life like a dance movie? Dance is why we live. It’s why we breathe. It’s everything.”

“Tell that to the wraith,” Rosa cuts in, but she sounds significantly less pissed.

Gina shakes her head, slow and overly dramatic. “I think I’d rather tell that to the people left behind.” Which, Amy thinks, is totally a point, though it’s startling that it’s come from Gina of all people.

“Okay,” she says, still keeping her body between Rosa and Gina, just in case Rosa’s once more casually slouched posture is an act, “but we still need an old ZPM.”

“Got it!” Peralta announces, waving one at them. “While you guys were jibber-jabbering, I went through the box and located the thing that will save us all.” He grins at them triumphantly.

“Damn, you guys tricked me.” Amy thinks Gina’s words and her admiring tone are sort of at odds with each other, but whatever. They’ve got the ZPM and soon, Captain Holt is going to smile at Amy and say something like ‘good job, Santiago,’ and that’s pretty much all Amy’s wants to hear right now.

* * *

 

“Remind me again where you’re going?” Scully asks, looking baffled by the control panel in front of him.

It _would_ be Amy’s luck to end up having to dial out on Hitchcock and Scully’s shift. She’s going to have to cross her fingers and hope that neither of them accidentally locks the gate down by falling asleep on the control panel again; the people on the planet they’re headed to seem nice enough, but Amy likes to keep her fleeing options open.

Amy stifles her frustration and explains, for the third time, “We’re going back to M4P-069 to exchange this ZPM for one that might still be charged.” She doesn’t bother to mention that they’d only just dialled back in an hour ago, so the codes are still in the system; that’ll only lead to Scully messing with the system and that’s a bad idea.

“It’s their honeymoon,” Hitchcock tells him, smiling at Amy and Rosa in a way that suggests he’s particularly pleased for them. “They got married back there.”

“Okay,” Scully nods agreeably. Then, after a long pause, he looks back down at the page of symbols Amy’s given him with the gate codes. “So, what am I supposed to do with this?” He stares at the console of matching symbols, baffled.

“Dial the damn gate, Scully,” Rosa snaps out, “before I rip out your spine and beat you silly with it.” She squares her shoulders, shifting the leather over her back, and Amy loses a couple of seconds as she watches the way Rosa’s muscles tense and shift underneath the cover of her sleek tunic as she gets ready to fuck shit up.

“I’ve got a bad back.” Scully tells Rosa guilelessly, like he feels the information is totally relevant. “Medical said that it’s probably my posture from sitting around all day.”

Amy really wants to facepalm. “Oh, for crying out loud,” she grumbles, and ignores all of them to just start keying in the codes herself. “Dialing the gate,” she calls out for any of the ground personnel who might need to know.

The gate locks and the wormhole shimmers out.

“We won’t be long,” Amy calls Hitchcock and Scully, and then she and Rosa head down to pass through the gate.

The last thing Amy hears before she steps through is Scully calling out, plaintive, like a child. “Do we just leave this open now?”

* * *

 

It’s a fair walk from the gate on M4P-069 to the settlement. Amy shoulders the backpack with the ZPM in it happily so that Rosa has both arms free to beat the shit out of anything that’s thinking about attacking them. She’s got her own P90, just in case she needs it, because if they’ve learned nothing else out here, it’s to always be on their guard for things wanting to kill them, even on the planets that seem like they’re friendly.

“You know,” she tells Rosa, trying to distract herself from the sparse landscape with its stumpy trees and weird, mossy ground, the heat of two suns beating down on them, “Hitchcock wasn’t wrong. I think technically this does count as our honeymoon.”

Rosa throws Amy a bland look over her shoulder and lengthens her strides, long legs eating up the distance. “I wouldn’t celebrate my pairing this way.”

“Oh?” Amy struggles to keep up, backpack with the ZPM thumping against her back as she breaks out into a quick jog to catch up. “Is there a special Athosian custom?”

Rosa shrugs, mouth pulling into a grin. “Well, normally there’s less walking and more sex.”

Amy stumbles over nothing in particular, her trajectory sending her straight into Rosa. “Oh my god!” she mumbles, caught out and awkward, flush heating her face.

Rosa raises an eyebrow but helps steady her. She helps Amy get her feet back under her, and then, after considering her for a second, grabs the bag with the ZPM in it.

“Not now,” she says, tone absolutely matter of fact, as her eyes rake over Amy in her BDUs. Then she sets off again at an even pace. “Wait until we get back to the base.”

Amy trails after her, hefting her P90 and trying not to feel foolish. “Back to base for – ?” Then it hits her. “Oh! Oh. Um. Okay?”

Rosa shoots her the sort of warm, amused look that gives Amy the sort of happy fizzy feelings in her belly that she usually associates with completing paperwork early or nods from Captain Holt. Or the one time she had that allergic reaction to the weird bean thing from P1L – 010.

Amy bites her lip to stop the smile from taking over her face and shoots a glance at Rosa, only to see her looking back. Both suns shine down overhead.

 

**Author's Note:**

> God help me, If I ever write a sequel to this, it will be a fic where they're forced to visit a planet on which dance is the medium of communication. 
> 
> “I never thought I'd ever be in a situation where I’d have to say this but, Gina, you are our only hope.” Terry looks like it actually pains him to say the words.
> 
> But then it turns out that Gina's interpretive dance is basically gibberish to the locals, and they’re actually offended by the performance.
> 
> “Everyone's a critic,” Gina mutters as they hastily escape back towards the gate. She turns back to call out to the mob, “Don’t you people know real art when you see it?!”
> 
> “Actually, on this one I think we're all with the people of PX-996,” Amy points out.
> 
> Gina moans, “My talent is wasted on this galaxy.”
> 
> The angry group chases them through the wormhole, but the Captain Holt saves the day by dancing with Peralta (since all the others are injured and Santiago has no rhythm.)
> 
> "How are you _doing_ this?" Peralta demands as the Captain twirls and dips him. "I really _am_ having the time of my life!"
> 
> "Peralta, _focus_! We're going into the big finish now," Holt snaps at him, and holds his arms out for the lift.


End file.
